Shifting the Rift
by Rede
Summary: Crossover with LOTR. Harry and Snape get pulled into a different world of wizards, elves, muggles, and Dark Lords. PostOotP, by now AU, the whole works. Snape mentoring Harry. Innuendos of child abuse.


**Shifting the Rift**

**Chapter 1**

A blue flash lit the sky. Harry ducked when a stone angel above his head blew into a million pieces, and a cackle rent the air. His lungs burned. The tingle of a nasty curse drove his heels onward, across the cemetery towards larger shelter. Another memorial statue burst into rubble near his head and he dove for cover behind a family mausoleum.

"Come out, come out, Harry dear!"

Harry's breath caught in his throat. He swore. Bellatrix, the bloody mental harpy! If _she_ was here than that meant-

"Gotcha!"

Almost of its own accord Harry's wand whipped out, and the hex was over his lips before he could figure out how the Death Eater had snuck up behind him. "_Nauseare_!"

Black robes crumpled to the ground, and there was a twinge of pride in Harry's chest at the sound of someone retching into their own mask. He'd made that spell up all on his own.

Plowing past the incapacitated wizard Harry leapt from the shelter of one mausoleum to another, dodging curses and edging closer to the portkey that had been planted in his room. He peeked around a granite corner and saw it, there, on the ground; the scarlet and gold scarf lay muddied and frayed in the grass. Mrs. Weasley had made it for him over the winter Hols of second year, and Harry sorely cherished the thing. Anger reared up again at the thought of the dregs of wizardom laying their hands on something so precious.

A bolt of yellow struck the tomb's wall three inches from his face. He was forced back, breaking his sight on the scarf-turned-portkey. Just as he was about to make a mad dash towards the opposing mausoleum, Harry's shoulder was yanked back, he fell, and was left blinking hard at a pair of shiny black boots.

"Your inattentiveness to surroundings will kill you one of these days, Mr. Potter," came a voice of liquid steel from above. "Perhaps even this day."

Regardless of the biting words, Harry thought that he might just _kiss_ those over-polished black boots, but instead looked up into a glare that was so familiar that he almost felt himself back in the Hogwarts dungeons, cringing as the Potions Master ridiculed his latest attempt at a Summa draught. "Professor?" he whispered.

Black eyes glittered for a moment before the metallic mask was slid back into place, and Snape's reaction was gone, shrouded in darkness. "Come, Mr. Potter. Surely you've not lost all your wits. Stand up, we must be gone!"

Harry scrambled to his feet, too relieved at being rescued to care that it was Snape doing the rescuing. "How did you find me, Professor?"

"Death Eater," came the clipped reply.

Harry stayed close to the taller man's side. If Snape was here then Dumbledore must know what happened. With any luck the aurors should be on their way…

"Hey! What in the bloody hell - "

Snape grabbed and backhanded him so roughly that it took a moment for the pain to catch up with the solid _smack!_ of flesh meeting flesh. Harry tumbled against the tomb, then was caught in a crushing hold.

"_Expelliarmus!_"

His stomach fell into his shoes when he noticed there was a third party present, and said third party was now twirling Harry's wand between two long, feminine fingers.

"Ah, Severus," Bellatrix cooed, "Always the reliable cat who catches the mouse."

"Bella," Snape replied in a voice so pleasant that Harry was sure the entire student body of Hogwarts would drop dead upon hearing it, "so glad you decided to finally show your claws."

Another cackle, and Bellatrix Lestrange winked at Harry, who squirmed in Snape's iron hold. "What say you, Severus? Shall we have a bit of fun with this mouse?"

Harry's breathing faltered, and he felt the arm across his chest tighten. "No," Snape barked. "The Dark Lord wants him alive and untouched."

Bellatrix tilted her head like a dog that found something curious. "Oh come now, Sevvie. We've been baiting the child all night, what's a bit more fun? And since when have _you_ shied away from a bit of _Crucio_ play?"

"I don't know what you find to be arousing, Bellatrix," Snape answered, this time with a hint of acid lining his tone, "but I have no desire to feel our Lord's wrath. Do you forget Dolohov's punishment so easily? I do not. If you want to see your grave so badly then _you_ take the whelp."

Snape grabbed a handful of Harry's robes, and threw the boy into the other Death Eater. Harry was just able to put his feet beneath himself before he fell into a full body-bind, and collapsed onto his right side. There was a commotion above. In his peripheral vision violent streaks of color flared overhead. A red burst lit the gravestone in front of him. A strangled scream brought the battle to a halt. Moments later Harry blinked into the vacant gaze of Bellatrix Lestrange. Her eyes wept with blood.

After a brief silence Harry felt his limbs unglue. He was rolled over and hauled to his feet, only to be thrown back against something hard and unyielding.

"_Stay!_" Snape hissed, then was gone.

Harry gulped air into his straining lungs. He gripped for the security of his wand, but with an annoyed huff realized it was still with Bellatrix. With knees that shook, Harry stood up and crept over to the prone form, pushed it over onto its back. Again Harry regarded the lifeless stare of Bellatrix, now clouded over. Blood seeped from around her lashes and fell down pale, hallow cheeks. He supposed that this was the closest the woman had ever come to actually crying.

Shutting down any further thoughts, Harry reached around the body and was relieved when his fingers closed on a familiar length of smooth wood. Just as he was about to stand there was a loud _crack_, and Snape came barreling around the mausoleum's corner.

With a furious roar Snape snatched Harry by the scruff of his robes and threw him back against the masoleum. At the last possible moment the Potions Master dropped to the ground and constructed a Protego shield around them both as a vein of violet shattered across the barrier."I told you to _stay_, Potter. Do not make me put you into yet another bind!"

Harry crouched behind his professor and held onto the mausoleum pillar, trying to steady his heartbeat. The silver shield rocked under the pressure of a powerful battering curse, but held true.

"Here!" Snape shouted, forcing something soft into Harry's hands. Harry stared at the soggy wool, stunned. The portkey! "Go, you idiot child!"

Another curse flew towards them and Harry still hadn't disapparated. With a growl Snape spun and gripped Harry by his collar with one hand, and buried the tip of his want into the fabric with the other. "_Portus_!" he cried.

As Harry felt the spell tear through the stitching of reality a heavy mass slammed into his side, and he reeled back to grab hold of the mausoleum's post. A tug behind his navel, the world began to shift and spin, and all faded into black.

When Harry finally came around he nearly jumped out of his skin. At least he would have if someone hadn't petrified him. The portkey had misdirected them. This was definitely _not_ the Dursley's. This wasn't Privet Drive; Hell, this probably wasn't even Little Whigning! Nor was this the drab cemetery Harry and Snape had just fled. This was a forest. Not the creepy, Forbidden Forest kind of forest, but one of those forests described in fairy tales and legends. This was one of those forests that was all soft earth and mossy knolls and trees so tall you couldn't see the tops!

But what caught Harry breathless, and more than a little frightened, was the full-blown wizards duel playing out before his eyes; and this was no gentlemen's duel. Curses pelted from either side of the clearing, neither opponent spoke, nor waited their turn. The two Death Eaters that circled one another were almost identical in height, but while one was broad through the shoulders and tapered at the waist, the other was barrel-chested and had legs the size of small trees. Harry picked out Snape immediately. Though he was the smaller of the two, Snape was also the more agile, and dodged many of the curses thrown his way. The other Death Eater laughed at Snape's maneuvering, but it wasn't a laugh of humor, Harry thought with dread. It was the laugh of someone who never lost.

Then, as if fate heeded his thoughts, a silver line shot from the unknown Death Eater's wand and tore across Snape's chest, through the thick robes and shirt beneath. A thin, bloody trail was left in the curse's wake, and Harry tried to cry out. Snape stilled and fingered his clothing. "Shame," he muttered. "These were imported from Italy. Really, Avery, if you didn't like them you should have just told me."

With a sneer in his voice Avery said, "Your jests will not save you this time, Severus. The Dark Lord knows of your treachery. I saw you rescue the Sacrifice with my own eyes; you shall not escape judgment again!"

Snape answered in a voice so low that Harry wasn't sure what was said until a green and silver blast left the Potions Master's wand, and struck his enemy full in the face. "Well then. We shall have to make sure those eyes never tell anyone their secrets."

As the flash dissipated into a fine mist around Avery's head, the Death Eater stumbled to his knees. Harry watched the vapor spin its way into man's mouth, his nose, his ears, ….any orifice it could find. Then, suddenly, Avery's lips formed into a silent scream, and he dropped to the ground.

Quiet settled in the clearing; not a bird's call was heard. Harry was unaware. He was unaware of anything save for the man who lay on the forest floor from a spell that Harry couldn't even begin to comprehend. He stared at the eyes that moments ago had danced in amused anger, but now, just like Bellatrix Lestrange's, were clouded in death. Is that how his parents had looked when they died? And Cedric? For the life of him Harry couldn't remember.

A voice shattered through his thoughts. With a jerk he felt his arms and legs undone, and looked up to see Snape. The man's mouth was moving. His mask was removed, and the black robes hung open to reveal a torn black shirt and trousers.

Harry blinked. "What?"

" - the portkey."

He shook his head, willing things to click. "What?"

With a roll of his eyes Professor Snape reached for him. _That_ got Harry to move. In a flash he was on his feet and backing away from the darker man.

"I'm not going to hurt you Potter," spat Snape. "If I wanted you damaged, you'd be dead already." He waved a hand towards the very deceased Avery a few meters away.

Harry looked between the Death Eaters for a long moment, then lowered his wand and nodded. Snape turned and walked over to his former associate. "Shame," he said as he turned out the man's pockets, "he always knew where to come by the best vintages."

"Why did you kill him?" asked Harry.

Snape glared over his shoulder. "Are you really so dense, Mr. Potter?"

Harry shrugged, but didn't take his eyes from the body.

With another long-suffering sigh, Snape explained. "He was going to kill me, and take you back to the Dark Lord. Kill or be killed, Mr. Potter, thus is war. I would have though you'd figured it out by now."

Harry shook off the insult and looked around the clearing. "D'you have any idea where we are?"

"No idea," Snape muttered as he stood upright and prodded at his injured chest, weaving the broken flesh back together with a healing charm.

Harry exhaled heavily. "So how do we get back?"

Snape cast him a glare that Harry had long ago labeled: 'Snape suppressing the urge to want to hit something, namely me.' He barked a laugh. _Too late for that._

"Do you find something amusing, Mr. Potter?"

The air in Harry's lungs vanished as he watched, frozen in place, his professor stalk towards him in a way that only one other man had done before. Apparently Snape really _had_ wanted to hit something...

"… for I assure you, _Boy_, that you will- "

Silence. After a few moments Harry realized that either Snape had grown a great deal taller or... he was kneeling on the ground with an arm flung up over his head. Snape stared down at him, face closed.

Harry blinked. Harry swore. Harry got to his feet and avoided that damned penetrating look. "What?" he spat.

Snape lifted a dark eyebrow. "You tell me."

"I tripped."

Even to his own ears it sounded mental. Finally, Snape snorted and turned away. Harry let out a relieved breath… only to suck it back in when he realized that he and Snape were no longer the only two things alive in this neck of the woods.

"Mankoi naa lle sinome?"

* * *

Disclaimer: Don't own, just manipulate. They really hate me sometimes. 

A/N: Okay, so...should I keep going? Change of pace? What? What? What? Review PLEASE cause if no one's reading there's no reason to keep writing.

Sindarin Translation: What are you doing here?


End file.
